Nightmare
by Bonnie Hunter
Summary: Amon gets a visit from a demon of his past. My theory on the origins of Amon.


_**Nightmares**_

It was the sound of rain pattering on glass.

It was of needles falling on a wooden floor.

The sounds of the cave…

Amon jerked into a sitting position just as the noise stopped, gasping out of fear.

He wasn't in the cave.

He was back in his apartment. He was in the real world.

The Equalist Leader looked around the empty room and stood slowly from his bed. As he slowly made his way through into the next room, he absent mindedly brought his hand up to the back of his neck. As this happened, his fingers brushed against his bare forehead.

Wait…where was his mask?

He couldn't have taken it off, he never took it off!

"Looking for this?"

For a moment Amon's heart stopped.

The Equalist Leader waited a moment for his heart to continue beating and took a breath before turning around.

_**He **_smiled, razor sharp incisors flashing ever so slightly, and continued to hold out his hand. Dangling on his thin fingers was the ivory colored mask.

"Master Koh…." Amon said hoping the spirit didn't notice his voice crack. He respectively placed his hands together and bowed for _**Him**_.

The spirit's sadistic grin only grew wider as _**he**_ strutted around the room. The spirit's human form wore a long black coat that trailed behind _**Him**_. This face was young with short blue grey eyebrows and golden blonde hair (Koh called it 'the Beggar's Son'). Amon remained bent over silently refusing to make eye contact with the spirit.

"There is no need to remain in that position, Noma..."

Amon felt a deep chill run down his back as he reluctantly stood straight.

"My name is Amon…" he growled.

He regretted that instantly.

Koh stopped and turned back towards Amon.

"Was that aggravation I heard in your voice?"

Amon felt his face lose all sense of color.

Keep calm, keep calm, he told himself.

"No…I believe you are mistaken. May I have my mask back?"

The spirit's face had changed from the blonde young man's to a dark haired woman (The Bride to Never Be), most likely from the water tribe. _**She**_ snickered softly and brought the mask to her chest.

"So what, so you can cover up that handsome face of yours? Never!"

Now_** She **_openly mocked him. He hadn't been remotely 'handsome' ever since he was a child. Not since the fire-bender scarred him.

"You know you should just ditch the mask and hood, show the world that good-looking face of yours. You'll get more followers that way."

Amon felt his face vaguely twitch as the spirit's hands began to fumble with the mask. It was his mask and was delicately crafted in order to perfectly match the shape his face. By hand. By his hand. That took him a whole day and night to make and paint.

"I am already gaining new followers every day. Why are you even here?"

The woman turned into a light skinned and dark haired man (the General).

"What? I can't come and visit my favorite little mortal every once in awhile? But I do want to see how your plans are coming along, perhaps even see them through…"

"Everything is going according to plan, master; the avatar will soon be yours."

"Soon isn't good enough, I need it now. It's been far too long since I…since I added a new look to my collection. Far too long Noma, far too long…"

For a minute the grey eyes connected to Amon's and as they connected the grey eyes turned into a feral yellow color. Amon saw a hunger linger in those eyes. A terrible and ravenous hunger that sent chills down Amon's spine.

"If you are in such desperate need of a new face, I have an ex-senator in one of my prison-"

"No! My new face shall be the Avatar's, not some low rated inmate! Do you hear me?" Koh snarled, his grip on the mask tightening. The brown haired man morphed into an expressionless and pale face (The Performer). Amon felt his shoulders tense, but refused to let his face show the slightest bit of fear. Koh sighed and placed the mask on Amon's small antique desk. He chuckled softly to himself, almost as though there was a story told without Amon's knowledge of it. Amon was tempted to take a step back when the spirit approached him, but found he physically couldn't. The spirit's smile was definitely sadistic and grew as he placed his hands on Amon's face, his thumbs slowly, almost affectionately, caressing Amon's cheeks. They were of the same height and were eye to eye. "I'll admit I have been a bit too irrational and demanding, especially since you've already done so much for me. But need I remind you of our little deal and what happens if you don't hold your end of the bargain? Of that promise that poor little boy made; poor, poor, little _Noma_ with no family or home to run to, that had to take refuge in that sanctuary? I remember him quite well…" Koh ran one of his hands through Amon's dark hair before removing his hands.

"O-of course I remember our deal. Though using it to threaten me won't make my plans go any faster! I will get you the Avatar but within time."

Koh frowned, the mask turning into a younger man (the Beggar's Son again).

"You have a week."

In a column of smoke Koh had disappeared.

Amon must have stood there for no more than five minutes in silence before his legs moved him back towards the bed and he collapsed, his erratic breathing patterns eventually lulling him back to sleep.

And prayed to whatever Supreme Being there was that he wouldn't dream of the cave again.


End file.
